Bonds of Guilt
by SeveRemus
Summary: When Lily's spirit brings Severus and Remus together, it changes the nature of their relationship forever... M/M slash, rated for later chapters. Slightly OOC, possibly AU, definitely changes future events in the books. Stand-alone. On hiatus.
1. Hollow

Vengeance: Eye for eye, tooth for tooth; a fair, satisfying, and rapid way to a sightless, toothless world.

Mercy: The infrequent art of turning thumbs up on an old antagonist at the end of one's rapier.

-- Calvin Miller, "The Singer"

* * *

Hollow

The bitter November wind seemed to cut into Severus' very soul -- what little was left of it. He felt hollow, like a porcelain doll ready to shatter at the slightest touch, fragile with age. He walked without thinking, all too familiar with the way, for his steps had haunted this path almost every night for the past week.

After Voldemort's defeat in Godric's Hollow, the Death Eaters had fallen apart, either arrested, hiding, or pleading that they had been under the Imperius Curse. Only Severus had been spared by the Wizengamot, due to his late decision to betray his fellows. It had nearly been too late to save him from sharing their fates; it **had** been too late to save Lily.

Lily. The reason that his feet continued to lead him back, night after night, to the place where his universe had been ripped apart. The place where she had irrevocably broken his heart, when she had started her new life as James Potter's wife. The place where even those broken pieces were wrenched out of his grasp, when Voldemort had killed her in his quest for immortality.

He could not comprehend his own need to keep returning to this place, which held nothing but grief for him. As though rubbing salt into his wounds would expunge his guilt! But no, he knew that forgiveness was not possible for him, for the one whose forgiveness he needed was now dead, and the price of her loss was heaviest on him. He believed so, with all his oft-shattered heart, for even though her son had survived, and would now live without knowing his mother, Severus had known her and loved her in a way the child never could, and his grief was compounded by his guilt.

As he neared the remains of her house (he could never bring himself to think of it as _James'_ house), his benumbed senses were sharply aroused by a cry -- barely human, almost bestial in its timbre, a howl that rent the darkened sky.

He stopped, startled. The sadness that echoed in that sound seemed to mirror the silent cry in his own breast, and by resonating, made him _feel_ again: feel the hurt, the anguish, the loneliness, and the despair. He hesitated to go forward and meet the creature that had made that cry, for fear that exposure to the thing itself would make him face his nightmares in tangible form as well. Yet he wondered what unholy creature might have made that sound -- for followers of the Dark Lord were still about, and the place of his undoing might invoke such a lament. If there were any of his erstwhile comrades in this place, Severus knew he must capture or incapacitate them. When he had replaced his loyalties, he had done so completely, for the Dark Arts had cost him all that he held dear.

He crept from shadow to shadow, using a spell to silence his footsteps. He saw a form, he thought, crouched before the gate of the very house where Lily had given her life and Voldemort had lost his powers. It seemed to be trembling, weeping, kneeling upon the cold ground, grasping the gate with pale hands. Severus was relieved somewhat to find it in the form of a man, rather than some other, more hideous being of the night, but ever cautious, he pointed his wand at the grieving form before revealing himself.

"Who are you and what business do you have here?!" he demanded, willing his wand to illuminate the man before him. Blinded, the man gasped, raising his hands to shield his eyes from the sudden light.

"Snape?" came a voice he recognized, despite the years that had passed in silence between them.

"Lupin!" he snarled, his hatred genuine. He cursed himself, too, for not having the foresight to think of his possible presence here, and to realize that the voice he had heard earlier had belonged to this werewolf.

His eyes adjusting to the light, Remus pulled himself up by the gate to stand before his childhood enemy.

"I'm sorry, I should have thought..." he began, trailing off as his voice cracked. He turned away and composed himself before starting again, "I know you were close to Lily. I'll leave if you'd rather... be alone."

Severus had never known how to respond to this boy -- now a man -- as they had encountered one another in school. On the one hand Remus had never laid a finger on him or, for that matter, spoken an unkind word to him; on the other, he had never prevented his friends from tormenting Severus, even when he had been made Prefect. However, on those rare occasions when they had chanced upon each other without the boisterous presence of James or Sirius, he had been civil, even congenial, as though he wished to make up (as if he could) for the bad behaviour of his friends. Severus had always treated him with mistrust, as his instinct dictated, but could not help but wonder how different their relationship might have been, if only Remus had been sorted into another House -- that is, he _had_ wondered about such things, until that dreadful night when he had learned Remus' true nature, in exchange for the most harrowing and humiliating experience in his life to that time.

Remus pulled out what served as a handkerchief for him and blew his nose; then, with a courteous nod to Severus, began walking past him, carrying a small, well-worn case. Knowing that he was about to be left in peace, Severus expected to feel relieved; however, to his own surprise, he was gripped in the clutches of an aching loneliness. Shocked, yet not one to admit to such weakness, he spoke the first sensible words that surfaced in his mind.

"Did you ever suspect Black... _capable_, of such a crime?"

They escaped from his lips like a plea for conversation, for company, and he blanched even as he said them. However, they had the desired effect, for Remus stopped, and slowly turned to face him with his red-rimmed eyes.

"No," he said, as hollow as the shell Severus believed himself to be. "I still can't believe it. He might have betrayed Peter or me, if tortured... but _James?_ Never!"

After a moment's consideration, Severus replied, "Then he deceived all of you."

"Yes." Remus sighed, his breath white in the cold. "The only reason I can think of, is that he went mad. Like his cousin Bellatrix, you know. Perhaps it runs in his family."

This theory had not even occurred to Severus, and made him look up at the other man sharply.

_Lupin may have been spineless, but he was never a fool,_ he reminded himself.

"I blame myself for this," Remus said sadly, waving a hand at the carnage that was all that remained of a once happy home. He did not realize how his confession, identical to the other's own guilt, had just shaken Severus to the core. "I should have seen his madness coming on. Even as children, at Hogwarts, there were many times he did things that... well, that were downright _cruel_. Of course, you would know of that better than any other," he added, facing Severus with unflinching candor. "What Sirius did to you, over the years, was not simply cruel -- it was _sadistic!_ And I... I let him be. I never stopped him, never tried to talk him out of his schemes. For that... I am truly sorry."

Severus did not know, as usual, how to respond, but it seemed Remus did not expect any response.

"When he tried to... to use me, to hurt you, I should have realized... exactly how dangerous -- how **murderously** unstable -- he had become! I should have gone to Dumbledore, told him about all of his pranks, and begged him to evaluate his mind... Perhaps if his madness had been discovered then, this... this would not..."

Remus' voice failed him again, and he stood there, mutely gazing at the shattered house. As taciturn as Severus was, the silence between them became unbearable, and he opened his mouth several times in an attempt to break it. What finally came out surprised even him, but it was the only thing he could find in himself to say.

"I... I'm sorry, for your loss."

Remus turned to him with a humourless smile.

"And I, yours." The werewolf regarded the other man's haggard appearance thoughtfully, and added, "Lily was... a wonderful friend. Perhaps the only true friend you had?"

Severus' lips became a hard line, and Remus continued to talk as though to himself.

"She was the only one who stood up for you, wasn't she... A beautiful person, through and through! I admired her, but... I was weak. I couldn't stand up to my friends, even when they wronged you so horribly... I was too scared to lose their friendship! And now... well, it seems... Fate is not without a sense of irony." He averted his gaze, glancing back at the broken, lifeless house. "Now, I have lost all of them."

The emptiness in Remus' eyes as he stated that, mirrored the void within Severus.

_We are both alone,_ he thought, and suspected that Remus had already arrived at the same conclusion.

Remus stirred, as though trying to awaken from sleep -- from a bad dream -- and turned back to Severus somberly.

"Forgive me for intruding. I... I guess... I've been longing for some company. After all that's happened..." He faltered, then smiled his mirthless smile again. "All of the wizarding world is celebrating the supposed demise of Voldemort, but I have to agree with Dumbledore -- it doesn't seem possible that he could have simply _died_, and so easily! But even if he does not return to trouble us in our lifetime, I feel... the price we have paid... was far too dear."

Severus nodded, unable to speak with the vision of Lily looming foremost in his mind.

"Goodbye, Severus," the werewolf said softly, switching the case to his other hand as he walked down the lane.

Watching his retreating form, Severus was struck by a realisation, and before he knew what he was doing, he had called out, "Lupin!"

"Yes?" the other answered, patiently turning around for the second time.

Severus swallowed, wondering at himself why he was doing this, yet unable to stop himself. He took a few steps towards the werewolf, whom he had despised for many years, as he considered how to put his question to him.

"Do you have a place to stay?" he finally managed.

There was an awkward pause as Remus regarded him.

"No. I can't afford the flat that James had let for me, and had to leave today." He lifted his case slightly, in acknowledgement of Severus' acute observation. "I have enough money, though, to stay at some Muggle lodgings for a while."

The last was spoken with a half-hearted attempt at cheer, as though to assuage any concern, but did not deceive either of them.

"Potter had let your apartment?" Severus asked, incredulously and untactfully. He knew himself that he was hedging, avoiding what he had intended to say.

"Yes. He wasn't _all_ bad, you know... Although I daresay Lily must have had a hand in it, somehow." Remus' tone was light, even though his voice quivered with emotion.

_Lily. It all comes back to her,_ Severus thought.

"That sounds so like her," he said.

Remus smiled, this time with some true warmth in his eyes. "Yes. She was a good influence on James. I hope little Harry takes after her more than his father, or he'll be a hellion for sure!"

Severus wondered, for the first time, if he'd been drawn here by some remnant of her spirit. If, perhaps, she had called to his soul from beyond the grave... and if that were possible, if she had also brought Remus to this place, to be here when he arrived. To bring them together, as it were.

He took a few more steps until he stood facing the werewolf, close enough to see his expression even in the darkness. He chose his words carefully.

"If you've no plans for the immediate future," he began, "I have an empty room at my house where you could stay. There is also a small cellar where... you could be kept, safely warded, during your... transformations."

The shock on Remus' face as the words registered almost unnerved Severus into retracting his offer. But his expression quickly turned to that of gratitude, and relief.

"You... You would do that, for **me?** After all..." His voice cracked again, but he spoke anyway. "After all we _did_ to you?! Severus... I can't express... how thankful I am! And how kind, how **generous** of you!!"

Uncomfortably, Severus flicked his hands in a self-deprecating way.

"It's nothing. I have no use for the room, and besides -- I cannot in good conscience have you out among the Muggles, with your... condition. It simply isn't safe!"

Remus nodded. "I've tried different spells to try to confine myself to a limited area, but... it really only works with a magically reinforced _structure_." He looked Severus directly in the eye, and told him, "I will be forever in your debt, if you will keep me from harming anyone."

"Of course. As I know quite well what a horrifying encounter that can be, I am bound by my conscience to do so," Severus replied. Then quietly, he admitted, "But I also believe it is what Lily would have me do... My sole purpose for living, now, is to right some of the wrong I have done while I served the Dark Lord. Perhaps... this is the first step."

Remus nodded again.

"Yes. And my reason to live, to continue clinging to this wretched existence, is the hope of another chance to fight Voldemort -- to avenge the lives he has destroyed!"

Severus looked at his former enemy, or at least, the closest friend of his childhood nemeses, with a new understanding.

"So. Our purposes coincide."

"So it would seem," Remus agreed.

"Well then," he said, walking briskly up the lane towards the secluded Apparition Point, "I see no reason why we should stand here, freezing, any longer."

* * *


	2. End

The quality of mercy is not strain'd,  
It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven  
Upon the place beneath: it is twice blest;  
It blesseth him that gives and him that takes:

-- William Shakespeare, "The Merchant of Venice"

Mercy, by definition, is not given grudgingly;  
it falls gently to the ground like rain from heaven.  
It is a double gift, benefiting the one who gives  
as well as the one who receives.

* * *

End

Severus awoke with the vague sense that something had changed -- the heavy cloud that had lingered over him for what had seemed an eternity had not lifted, but... shifted, as though showing the first possibility of dissipating. He sighed when he could not immediately identify the reason for his near-optimism, but on his next breath of cold air, he caught a whiff of something familiar, and delectable. Startled, he rose out of his bed, throwing on his robe and slippers against the chill morning, and made his way down to the kitchen. As he neared he heard the bacon and eggs sizzling in the skillet, as well as the low sound of Remus humming as he cooked. Severus almost groaned aloud.

In his sleep, he had forgotten about his rash decision of the night before to bring the werewolf into his home. _Whatever had possessed me?_ he wondered, regretting his actions and resenting Remus' presence, despite the fact that he had invited it. However, he remembered his motivation soon enough. _It was Lily,_ he sighed, being pulled back, in his mind, to the gate of her house, where he had found one of his most hated Gryffindors weeping. Although, perhaps, "hated" was not the right word to describe his feelings towards the werewolf -- "despised" or "loathed" came closer. And, though he would never admit to it, "terrified of" was also applicable when the man became the monster.

At the moment, his new houseguest hardly looked capable of frightening a Muggle, even, standing there in his shabby clothes as he stirred something in a pot and occasionally flipped the bacon. He did, however, use his wand to summon some dishes from the unfamiliar cupboards, and proceeded to plate the breakfast he had cooked. The pot, Severus noted, contained a kind of soup, which added its aroma to the others as he poured it into two bowls. When Remus turned to open a drawer for silverware, he saw his host standing silently in the doorway.

"Ah, Severus! Good morning," he said, seemingly unruffled by the strangeness of their situation. "I was just about to take breakfast up to you, but you've saved me the trip, I see."

Severus stared balefully at Remus as he set the table with a swish of his wand.

"I do hope you like corn cream soup," he continued cheerfully. "I always like soup when it gets colder. Ah, the toast looks done!"

Still wordlessly, Severus took a seat at the table, watching as the slices were sent sailing from the fireplace, where they'd been hovering over the fire, to land on the side of their plates.

"Where did you get all this?" he asked, rather bluntly. Remus did not seem affronted.

"Well, since you've been so magnanimous in opening your home to me, I thought the least I could do was stock your larder. I Apparated to a Muggle village I rather fancy, not too far from here -- their produce is quite good." Picking up a fork, he smiled ingenuously. "I promise that my cooking is far better than my skill at Potions!"

"It could hardly be worse," Severus muttered ungraciously, but took a spoon to the soup nonetheless. To his mild astonishment, it was delicious, as were the other items set before him. He found himself tucking in with relish, and that in itself was surprising, for he had not had any appetite since the news of the tragedy -- and triumph -- at Godric's Hollow had reached him. He had forced himself to eat, simply to keep his strength up, but could not for the life of him recall what he had eaten. This was, he realised, the first true meal he had partaken in a long while.

"Not bad for the first attempt of the season," Remus commented himself, "but it could use some pepper. I didn't think to pick up any, but no matter -- I'll put it on the list for next time."

With a flick of his wand, he directed a quill to scratch the item onto a piece of scrap parchment, which Severus saw was already covered with notes.

"I had no idea you could cook," Severus grudgingly admitted, and Remus grinned -- for he knew his boyhood schoolmate well enough to recognize the compliment for what it was.

"Purely a survival skill, I assure you," he said demurely. "When you're on your own, and would prefer not to eat boxed oatmeal for days on end, you learn a few tricks."

They ate in silence for a while, and when they had both finished their soup, Remus poured tea.

"More toast?" he asked, and Severus nodded. He had been mulling over some thoughts, which he finally decided to voice.

"You said, last night, that Potter had let your apartment..."

"Yes. James was generous that way," Remus re-affirmed.

"And I know for a fact that Black had been living with him, before..."

Severus could not bring himself to say it, but Remus smoothly sidestepped that event.

"Yes, he moved back to the Black estate when his mother died. He hadn't expected to inherit anything, you know, after being disowned, but with Regulus gone..." Remus broke off abruptly. "Did you know Regulus well?"

"No more than any other Slytherin in his year," Severus answered. He returned to his original train of thought. "Had you stayed with Potter, as well?"

"No. He already had Sirius there, and... Well, to be honest, I'd had something of a falling out with Sirius, towards the end of school..."

"Oh?" Severus responded, sincerely surprised. "I wouldn't have known."

Remus' face twisted into a wry smirk. "I'm sure you had better things to occupy your mind. And really, it probably wasn't noticeable to most. **He** pretended to ignore it, anyway... Did a fine job of it, as usual."

Severus had not expected such sarcasm from the Gryffindor.

"So then, you had a _one-sided_ falling out?" he probed, infusing the words with his own brand of sarcasm.

"You could say that," Remus replied, with a humourless smile. "Although it did develop into a... a _full-fledged_ falling out, if you will. Which was why Sirius -- I believed -- talked James out of making me their Secret Keeper." He shook his head ruefully. "That's what I'd thought at first. Now... I can't help but wonder, if he hadn't deliberately excluded me from their plan... So he could betray them more easily."

Severus dropped the piece of toast he had just begun to carry to his mouth. Suddenly, his appetite was nowhere to be found.

"Are you saying... it was premeditated? He'd _planned_ to betray them, from the start?!?"

Remus fingered the handle of his teacup as he considered his answer.

"It certainly seems that way... Although I do believe madness had a part in it, there are some who are capable of clear thought and reason despite their madness, you know. I have no idea when he actually _decided_ to betray them, but he obviously managed to deceive James and Lily right to the end -- and neither of them was gullible! Well, James may have had a blind spot for Sirius," he amended, with a sigh. "But who would have thought Sirius would turn on his own friend? On James, no less, who had given him his first real home?" Remus shook his head again, weary with sorrow. "I just wish, in hindsight, that I'd insisted on having a role in all of their plans! I might have caught on, seen something amiss, that James might have overlooked!" He took a stiff draught of tea before adding, soberly, "I would have done _anything_ to save them. I owe James my life."

"Oh?!?" Severus responded, startled for the second time. Remus met his eyes with his mirthless smile.

"Of course. You should know that," was his enigmatic reply. "But then again, as it did not _concern_ you, perhaps not..."

"What do you mean?" Severus demanded, feeling slightly annoyed at not knowing what Remus was referring to.

"Severus, has it never occurred to you?" he answered, with a mixture of pity and exasperation. _"There are no werewolves in Azkaban."_

Severus gaped at him, digesting this bit of information. Seeing how he was struggling, Remus decided to spell it out for him.

"If Sirius had succeeded in his plan, and I had gotten to you -- either bitten you or killed you -- Dumbledore, certainly, would have been sacked. But I..." He choked on emotion, then continued after swallowing, "I would have been executed. Not the Dementor's Kiss, no -- apparently, the soul of a werewolf turns even _their_ stomachs," he commented dryly. "But if I had injured or infected another child, the Wizengamot would have shown no mercy, regardless of my own age. I would have been destroyed, like the troublesome cur I was."

Severus tried to say something, and failed. Remus pretended to not notice his discomfiture.

"When I learned of what Sirius had done -- not only jeopardizing your life, but mine as well -- I was furious!" he said, a shadow of a scowl darkening his brow. "I'll admit, I was more concerned for my own safety at the time," he added, his eyes cast down in shame, "but even so, I have never wished this... this _condition_ on anyone, not even my worst enemy! And you, despite all that I allowed my friends to do, were never my enemy, Severus."

Being addressed thus, he finally found his voice.

"I find that hard to believe."

Remus accepted it with a nod.

"I don't blame you. But the only one I ever considered my enemy -- my _personal_ enemy, aside from Voldemort and his Death Eaters -- was, and is, Fenrir Greyback. He was the werewolf that bit me, when I was still very young... and he also murdered my parents, in my seventh year, by Voldemort's orders." His lips curled into a smirk that was painful to behold. "Of course, it would do no good to bite him, since he already has this disease himself. The only revenge I would ever be able to exact is to kill him, and even that... seems too light a punishment, for his many crimes... On others as well as my family."

To that, Severus could readily agree. He had kept his distance from the bloodthirsty werewolf while he had been in the Dark Lord's employ, but had heard enough of his exploits to make even his desensitised heart draw back in horror.

"So despite what you may think of me," Remus continued, after pausing to allow his anger to settle back, like a wary viper, into the depths of his heart, "I hope you can see that I would **never** have taken part in planning that trick on you -- if for no other reason than that I would not have risked my own life! And by the same token, when James pulled you out of harm's way, he not only saved your life, or prevented you from suffering the same malady as I do... he also saved Sirius from expulsion, and myself from certain death."

Severus slowly nodded, unable to deny the logic of Remus' argument.

"Yes... I can see that now," he conceded.

The relief was evident in Remus' face.

"I'm glad you do," he murmured, very softly. "I'm sorry that you ever believed me capable of endangering your life, but I deserved that, I know. When Dumbledore made me a Prefect, I could have done... so much more! Instead, I chose to look the other way, where my friends were concerned. I'm sure Lily was exasperated by my behaviour, on so many occasions..."

His comment jolted Severus, back to the question he had originally set out to ask.

"So, if Potter had been... providing for you," he began, "did he ever tell Lily, about your... lycanthropy?"

Remus laughed and looked up at him.

"Bless you, Severus, Lily didn't need him to tell her! She'd figured it out back in our second year, long before even my dorm mates had put two and two together." Not realising the immensity of this revelation, Remus chuckled as he reminisced. "She really was very clever! And she was always kind to me... almost maternally concerned for my health. When I had to explain to her, in fifth year, why I wouldn't be able to perform my Prefect duties on certain days, she said she'd always suspected as much, although she _was_ surprised that Dumbledore had allowed me to attend Hogwarts. But she assured me that she would take my secret to the grave." At this, his voice hitched, and he fell silent.

"As she did," Severus supplied, reverently, and Remus nodded.

* * *


	3. Price

You say it's useless crying,  
It's never got you far.  
You claim there's none as lonely,  
Lonely as you are.  
I don't believe it...  
I believe it...  
Take a look around and see:  
What's breaking you is breaking me.  
One moonless night we'll make it right  
And vanish in the dark of night.

-- a-ha "Slender Frame" lyrics

* * *

Price

_"There are no werewolves in Azkaban." _

Severus pondered, as he watched his potions simmer, why he had never thought of that -- why he had never considered the price that Remus would have paid if the "prank" had been remotely successful. For despite Sirius' protests that he had only wanted to _scare_ "Snivellus," as the object of so many hateful incidents of bullying, he knew better. The trap had been set to kill, or at the very least, to turn him into a creature so despised as to be a pariah even among the lowest of outcastes.

At this very moment, Remus was out looking for work among Muggles, surely an insult to a wizard who had scored top marks in not only his O.W.L.s but also his N.E.W.T.S.! When Severus had expressed his surprise, the mild-mannered man had simply answered, "It takes them longer to suspect me of anything strange, and even if they do, it's easy enough to use the Confundus Charm on them." Realising that his new houseguest had come to certain conclusions based on painful experiences, Severus had not questioned him again, and had retreated to his study/laboratory to brew some potions for the apothecary in Diagon Alley.

Although Remus had gone out for the past few days in search of work, it was hard to find a position that required almost no credentials (though Remus had become adept at befuddling the interviewers), but more importantly, one that he could take time off from, for one or two days a month, without being dismissed. Those restrictions forced him to become a day-labourer, which meant manual labour; since he was usually exhausted after his transformations, this further reduced the number of days he could work, but he cheerfully said it was "better than the alternative," and kept looking. Severus was unsure what the alternative might be, but had refrained from asking.

As the potions congealed to just the right consistency, Severus poured them into several phials, labelling them as he went. Most of the potions ordered through the apothecary were mundane but difficult -- mixtures that the apothecary himself was loath to attempt, for fear of causing unwanted side effects in the customers or, worse yet, blowing up, melting, or otherwise damaging the store. It was tedius work, but Severus did not mind, for the more difficult the task, the less chance he had to dwell on his loss -- the overwhelming guilt and despair over the loss of Lily. And, thinking of alternatives, it was still better than the work the Dark Lord had set for him, creating new and innovative poisons to torture unfortunate victims for the demented Lord's pleasure.

The phials filled, he wrapped them carefully in a clean cloth and tucked them into a magically protected pocket of his robe, then used Floo Powder to transport himself to the apothecary. He was thankful that there were no customers in the store -- although his name had been cleared, his reputation as a former Death Eater earned him no friends, and despite his best attempts to convince himself that he did not care a whit for what others thought of him, their overt stares and muttered insults... wearied him. He had a long-cultivated aversion to being the center of attention, and now that the Dark Lord had been presumed dead, those who had aligned themselves to him, however briefly, were prime targets of ridicule or even hatred. Which was understandable, given how many had suffered from their various unspeakable crimes, but Severus did not have the grace or the patience to bear it with good mien.

The apothcary himself knew the worth of a brewer like Severus, and was not so foolish as to offend him in any way. In fact, he entrusted him with yet another set of orders, these ones more intricate yet. As he looked over the list, he inwardly cursed, for some required the brewing to be done in large quantities, so he would need to invest in those ingredients without the assurance of selling all of the finished product; however, the apothecary had anticipated his hesitancy, and offered to contact the shop in Hogsmeade to see if they could possibly stock the remainder. That being agreed upon, Severus bought some of his ingredients there, and headed out to another shop or two to gather the rest.

By the time he purchased all that he needed and finally Flooed home, Remus had already returned and started cooking dinner. Severus acknowledged him with what could only be described as a grunt, tired from his short excursion into society; Remus, in contrast, greeted him cheerily, a wide smile lighting his face.

"I found work!" he announced, triumphantly. "It's loading boxes on and off trucks at the docks, and since they're so overwhelmed, they'll take what days I can offer, with no questions asked about the days I have to miss. I found a spot to Apparate to that's quite convenient, too, so it's perfect!"

"Wonderful," Severus replied in a funereal tone that seemed to say exactly the opposite, and shuffled off to put away the new ingredients and wash his hands for dinner. When he came back down again, the table was set, and Remus was pulling a small but respectable piece of roast beef out of the oven.

"I was in the mood to splurge," he confessed, setting it in the middle of the table. Severus noted that there was a bottle of wine left open to breathe as well. "They want me to start tomorrow, so this may be the last time I can actually spend time cooking something recogniseable -- although I do hope, since they start so early, to be back in time to fix some kind of dinner, at least. That is," he added, somewhat anxiously, "if you haven't tired of my culinary repertoire yet?"

"If you wish to cook, I've no objections to consuming it," was Severus' less than flattering reply, but it was sufficient to bolster Remus' good mood.

"Well, then, now that _that's_ settled," he said, pouring the wine into their glasses, "tuck in!"

The food was certainly as good as anything as Severus had ever tasted, including not only the sumptuous feasts at Hogwarts but also the few occasions he had been invited to dine at Malfoy Manor. He might have been embarrassed to admit it, but whatever lingering reservations he might have had regarding his new houseguest had been effectively silenced by the quality of his cooking.

But that was not the only thing that had given him a newfound respect -- yes, respect -- for the werewolf. For the man had worked tirelessly to clean the house from stem to stern, ridding it of almost every last speck of dust, and had even tamed the wild bramble patch of a garden into a place where herbs for both his cooking and Severus' potions were beginning to grow. This, in addition to searching for employment for hours at a time, only to return to cook meals for the two of them. Now that the house and garden were in satisfactory order, he was eyeing the neighboring properties, most of which were empty and dilapidated, as well as the sludge-infested riverbank. Severus could only stand back and watch in amazement. He had always appreciated order, and it was apparent that Remus did, also; and not only order, but cleanliness, even beauty. He had certainly made their environment a much more pleasant place than it had been before his arrival.

The dinner plates picked clean, Severus leaned back to enjoy the wine. Remus sent the dishes to the sink with a whisk of the wand, then with another deft movement, wafted out a pan with perfectly browned bread pudding.

"I hope you have some room for dessert," he said, stifling a laugh as Severus' large nose twitched involuntarily at the aroma.

* * *

That night Severus dreamed again of the horrible moment when Lily -- the light of his life -- had died. He had not been with the Dark Lord at the time, or he would have thrown himself in front of her, heedless of his master's wrath; however, he had seen Voldemort cast all of the Unforgiveable Curses at one time or another, and knew the torment the unfortunate victims suffered. Even with the Killing Curse, there was the moment before it hit, when the victims knew what was in store for them with no way to prevent the inevitable -- that moment, and their pleas for mercy, cries of horror, and snarls of rage, had been deeply etched into his mind, more times than he cared to recount.

In his dream it was always the same: the Dark Lord, his eyes glowing red in anticipation of the deed, burst through the door of the house that Severus knew only since its destruction. Potter was first in his path, and his death was painted in grisly detail in Severus' mind's eye, for it was a scene he had imagined often in his morbid fantasies -- what had made him, ultimately, pledge his loyalty to the Dark Lord, and now, in his guilt and torment, what had driven him to betray Lily. For he could not help but question his own motives, wondering if his desire for revenge upon Potter had led him, subconsciously, to give Voldemort the damning words of the prophecy.

After the prolonged wail that was James Potter's final breath, the Dark Lord made his way into the room where Lily stood, barring his way to the child. She faced him with courage, unflinching before his evil glare, and in the final moment before the murderous green spell snaked its way to her heart, there was only one name upon her lips...

Severus awoke screaming, drenched in cold sweat. He was so confused in the darkness that he did not notice the hands holding him, trying to comfort him, until he finally heard the low voice saying repeatedly, "It's all right, it was only a bad dream..."

As he took in great draughts of air, he realised the voice belonged to Remus, as well as the hands and arms that were wrapped around him, cradling him gently as though he were a child. Rushing back into reality, he was deeply ashamed, and therefore angry, that Remus had witnessed his moment of weakness.

"Stop! Let go..." he spat out, too furious to be coherent.

"Are you awake now?" came the calm, concerned voice.

"Yes," he answered, trying to control himself, abashed somewhat by the quiet solicitude Remus was exhibiting -- for although he had relaxed his hold on Severus, he had not yet completely released him, and was rubbing his back in slow, soothing motions.

"I heard you moaning, and tried to wake you," he explained. "You were thrashing about so wildly, I feared you would harm yourself."

"I'm fine," came the retort, in lieu of gratitude. Remus finally released him, but gave his shoulder a parting squeeze, as in sympathy. It was enough to ignite the dry, brittle kindling of Severus' temper. He bit out, venomously, "Do _not_ pity me!"

There was a moment's pause in the darkness.

"Pity, Severus? Whatever would lead you to believe, that you had earned my pity?" came Remus' cool reply. "Pity is for those who face tragedy through no fault of their own. You, however, had a choice -- you chose to follow Voldemort, despite the fact that the Dark Arts he practised were what cost you Lily's friendship. I cannot begin to imagine the horrors you witnessed as his minion, but they were of your own choosing. You will have to excuse me for reserving my pity for those who truly deserve it."

Once again, Severus was taken aback by Remus' words, and could form no answer. He had expected condescending kindness, or even anger, but not... truth. And it was only because of his great guilt and regret that he could admit, now, that it **was** the truth.

After letting the import of his words sink in, Remus continued in a softer tone.

"I am, however, glad to know that you are capable of feeling _something_ -- whether remorse or only horror -- at your past deeds. It shows that you are... human, and not the monster so many believe you to be. And for that... for what you have suffered, and are suffering still, I can feel... compassion."

After a minute more, in which Severus lay very still, unable to answer, he heard Remus retreating to his own room. It was with profound surprise that he found himself missing the werewolf's presence, as well as the comfort of his touch.

* * *


End file.
